


The Reunion

by CallMeNettie



Category: Hey Arnold
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Love, Reunions, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 15:02:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13010289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallMeNettie/pseuds/CallMeNettie
Summary: The PS 118 gang reunites for the funeral of one of their own.





	The Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick one-shot I came up with while at work. It wouldn't get out of my head until I wrote it down, so here it is.

It turned out to be one of those drizzly June days, the weather not quite ready yet to be summer but well on its way to no longer being spring. It was gray and damp and solemn. Which, in a way, perfectly fit the occasion. 

He scans the modest gathering, all the expected faces are there. Well, all but one that is. The preacher had already begun to speak and he was wondering if she was even going to make it. You could never tell with her, just which occasions she’d deem necessary to attend or not. It has been a good six months since she was last in town, the reason being then was for the wedding of their two best friends. At least that was a happy reason, not like the time before when the whole town gathered to show their respects as he and his grandfather laid his dear, sweet grandmother to rest. 

He looks out at the crowd one last time and finally sees her. Her pace is hurried as she makes her way to join them. She, as are the others, is dressed all in black. He knows this is neither the time nor place, but he can’t help but to let his eyes take her all in. He notices how her dress clings to each curve as if a part of her body. With the high neckline and long sleeves he can tell her intention was to dress modestly, but it’s just the fact that she has the type of body that no matter what she wears it comes off as sexy and alluring. 

Her blonde hair is pulled back into a tight bun, exposing a long, delicate neck. A neck he has tasted, the salty goodness of her skin locked away in his memory. Her eyes are hidden behind a pair of dark sunglasses and her face is expressionless, so he can’t quite tell if she sees him or not. 

He turns his attention back to the preacher, not really listening to the words he speaks. After all, that’s all they really are, just words. Just something he says because that’s his job. It’s what’s expected at a time like this. He tries to listen but he distracts himself this time with the weather. He notices that the drizzle has stopped and the sun was actually beginning to burn through the clouds. 

“Perhaps it will end up being a clear night tonight after all.” He thinks.

He notices the crowd begin to stir and realizes the preacher has stopped talking. Not wanting to lose her in the crowd he rushes to where she stands.

“Hey.” He quietly says, gaining her attention.

She looks at him, his reflection staring back at him through her glasses. 

“Hey, Football Head.” She says affectionately. 

“I wasn’t sure if you were going to make it or not.”

“Yeah, traffic was pretty bad.”

“You going to be staying long this time?” He asks, a glimmer of hope in his voice.

“I doubt it. I’ll probably head back tonight.”

“Oh.” He’s disappointed but deep down he didn’t really think she’d say yes even though he figured it was at least worth a try to ask.

She hears the disappointment in his voice and forces herself to ignore it. “You headed to the house to pay your respects? I can give you a lift.” 

“Thanks, but, I drove the Packard so I guess I’ll meet you there.”

She turns and looks at the gravesite, the hole not yet filled in. Wrapping her arms around herself she turns back to him. “I hate this kind of stuff.”

He starts to reach out to touch her arm but stops himself. “Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s never easy and always awkward.”

She looks at him and he wishes she’d take those damn glasses off. “Well, I’ll see you in a bit I guess.”

“Ok, see you there.”

 

…..

 

Later that night she arrives back at the cemetery. This time it’s her turn to scan the group for him. She sees him sitting on a blanket and takes the empty spot next to him. Everyone’s there, the whole PS 118 gang. They sit surrounding the freshly shoveled dirt that covers Curly’s grave. Stinky and Sid were in charge of the libations for the night and Stinky was passing out clear, plastic cups to everyone. 

Sid stands and addresses the group. “A meeting such as this would not be complete without my good friend Jack here.” He holds up a bottle of Jack Daniel’s then begins to follow behind Stinky, filling everyone’s cup. 

Once everyone is served it is Gerald’s turn to stand. He raises his glass for a toast, everyone else following suit.

“To Thaddeus, “Curly”, Gammelthorpe. A man who died as he lived, full of passion and a zest for life.”

A snort can be heard amid a chorus of “To Curly”. 

It’s Helga who speaks up. “Heh, passion and zest, the guy was a nut job.”

“Helga!” Rhonda says a bit taken back at her words. “What a horrible thing to say, and here right by his grave yet!”

Helga had forgotten that Rhonda and Curly had been a thing once and immediately felt just a tad bit of remorse for what she had said.

“I’m sorry, Rhonda. I shouldn’t have said that but come on. The guy enters a tiger enclosure at the zoo, buck naked and covered in tiger stripes thinking he could be “one” with the animals. That’s not normal behavior.” 

“What would YOU know of normal behavior?” Harold pipes in. “You spent your whole childhood tormenting your fellow classmates. You call that normal?”

Helga starts to say something back when she’s interrupted by Sheena. “Come on you guys, can’t you get along for one night? Especially on a night like this.”

Arnold places a hand on Helga’s shoulder. “Sheena’s right, this night is dedicated to Curly’s memory, lets save the arguing for another time.” 

In an effort to make up for starting the ruckus Helga stands, holding her glass up. “You’re right Arnoldo.” She looks around the group. “I’m sorry. To Curly, it was never a boring time when he was around. We’ll miss you.”

After a good hour or so of toasting and drinking the mood becomes mellow and reflective. Helga sits leaning against Arnold, his free arm wrapped around her. They are watched by Phoebe who just can’t understand why they’re not together yet. She knows Helga is still in love with him and that he returns the feelings, plus they get together as often as they can. It just doesn’t make sense to her.

Breaking the silence, and without really talking to anyone in particular, Stinky says, “Garsh, it sure does seem odd that the only time we all get together like this is when someone dies.”

“Umm, aren’t you forgetting something Stink Boy?” Helga says.

“I am? Like what?”

Gerald clears his voice and motions to Phoebe. “Just a little thing like our wedding perhaps?”

Stinky gives an embarrassed little smile. “Ohhh yeah, I forgot about that.”

Disagreeing with Stinky Sid speaks up. “I don’t find these graveside reunions that odd. In a way I think it’s kind of a nice way to pay our respects.”

“It did kind of help ease the pain of losing my grandma when she passed.” Arnold said. “It was good to be surrounded by my friends”

They all look to Helga now. It was with the passing of her mom when the tradition of these little graveside wakes started. Arnold went looking for Helga the night of Miriam’s funeral. No one had seen her for hours and people were starting to worry. A small search party of friends went looking for her. On a hunch Arnold decided to check out Miriam’s grave and sure enough, there was Helga. He sent out word that he had found her and one by one the close knit group of friends gathered by her side. 

This all took place during the middle of their junior year of high school. Her mom’s drinking had slowly been getting worse. She had taken a fall, breaking her right arm. The doctor had prescribed painkillers, not knowing of her drinking habits. One night, after a particularly fierce argument with Bob, Miriam had just wanted to go to bed and put the night behind her. Having already been intoxicated by the liquor, she didn’t pay attention to just how many pills she had in her hand as she popped them in her mouth and swallowed. 

She never made it through the night. By the time Bob came up to the room to apologize to her she was already gone. He blamed himself, of course, and took the loss very hard. To get his mind off the guilt he felt he threw himself into his work. Life at home between him and Helga consisted of nothing more than one argument after another. By the time graduation came Helga followed in her sister’s footsteps, leaving the house, and Hillwood for that matter, only coming back when necessary. 

That was six years ago and now here they all sit, once again paying their respects in their own, personal way. 

…… 

It's late now as Helga lays in Arnold’s bed looking up through the glass ceiling. He lays next to her, one leg thrown across her hips, his head resting at her breasts. She absentmindedly runs her fingers through his unruly hair as he rubs his cheek against her soft, rounded flesh. 

He knows what he’s about to say is only going to end in an argument, but he brings it up anyway.

“I don’t see why you have to head back tonight. I don’t like thinking about you being on the road alone at this hour.”

“I can’t help it. I have to be back by morning.”

“You should have taken an extra day off.”

“I can’t, you know I need the money.”

“When are you going to stop being so stubborn and come back to Hillwood? Everyone misses you.”

She huffs out a short laugh. “Right. Not one of those people even like me. How can you say they miss me?”

“That’s not true, they all like you. Would they have sat with you at your mother’s grave if they didn’t?”

She thinks about that for a second before shaking her head. “No, they tolerate me out of respect for you. There’s a difference.”

“What about Phoebe, she’s your best friend. You don’t think she misses you?”

“She had Geraldo now.”

“Well then, come back for me. I miss you.”

“You can always move closer to me. It works both ways you know.”

“You know I won’t leave Hilwood as long as my grandfather is alive.”

They lay in silence for a while before Arnold brings up the next topic.

“Marry me.”

“You bring this up every time we’re together.”

“And I’ll continue to bring it up as long as we’re together. Marry me.”

“And I will tell you the same thing I always do, you don’t know what you’re asking for. You don’t want the baggage that comes along with me.”

“I’ve known you all my life. I know where you come from, how you were raised, all your family problems, and I don’t care. I love you. Do you still love me?”

“Yes, of course, you know that.”

“Then what’s the problem? Are you afraid we’ll turn out like your parents?” 

He’s hit the nail on the head. That is exactly what she is afraid of. 

“I won’t ruin your life by dragging you down with my problems. You deserve better.”

“What I deserve, is to live the rest of my life with the woman I love, which happens to be you. Baggage and all.”

She gets up and starts rummaging through the pile of clothing they dropped on the floor earlier, suddenly in a hurry to be on the road. 

“I have to go, if I get on the road right now I might even have enough time to grab a few hours of sleep before having to be up for work.”

He takes her by the shoulders, turning her to face him. 

“Please, think about what I’ve said. You can’t run away forever. I love you, Helga, and I’m willing to be in this for the long haul. You are the only one for me.”

She promises, as always, to think about it and kisses him good-bye. With old habits being hard to break, she leaves via the fire escape. He watches her from the roof top as her car drives away. Turning back to the skylights, he climbs the ladder back to his room.

…….

She drives for a good hour, letting his words run through her head. She thinks about what she is returning to. A job she hates, a one room apartment in a lousy neighborhood that she can barely afford, no money, no friends, no one to give her any sort of moral support. She wonders if what he keeps telling her is true. Are her old friends really her friends? Do they really care for her and not just tolerate her? 

She has let her past define who she is and she wonders if she has what it takes to rise above it. To tell the world “I’m Helga G. Pataki damn it and I am not my parents!” She doubts she can do it on her own, but perhaps she doesn’t have to. After all, he did say he was in it for the long haul, didn’t he? She realizes that the biggest question of all, is whether or not she’s willing to take the risk to find out?

…..

He lay in his bed playing their conversation over and over again in his mind. He knew he had handled things badly, he always does. Letting his feelings get the better of him like that, scaring her off. She’s like a timid deer that you have to approach slowly, using caution. Gaining its trust so it doesn’t bolt away. He closes his eyes, hoping to get some sleep but he knows it’s pretty much a lost cause at this point. The sun is already starting to lighten the night sky. 

As he tries to clear his mind he hears a gentle tapping on the window above him. Looking up he rubs his eyes in an effort to make sure he’s seeing things correctly.

She looks down at him, giving him a little wave. He is up in an instant, climbing the bedroom ladder to the roof. Once outside he sweeps her up into his arms. Fearing that he’ll lose her if he lets go, he holds her tightly against him.

He kisses her, savoring the feel of her lips against his. Finally, he looks at her and smiles.

“You’re back.”

She smiles, nodding her head. “Yeah, I’m back.”

 

THE END


End file.
